Free All Through The House by Janice Kay Johnson Page A

shoulders moved in a shrug of apparent indifference.
"I got my start around here working for Ed. We had a parting of the
ways."
    His tone didn't exactly forbid any more questions, but
something made her doubt they were welcome. Well, he hadn't told her anything
she couldn't have guessed. What's more, she would be willing to bet the dislike
was mutual. Which left a big question. Why did Nate live in a house Ed owned
and was trying to sell out from under him?
    Past the river, the trail began to switch back up through
deep forest. They were shaded by tall Douglas firs and cedars. Huge, rotting
fallen trees and stumps wide enough for a man to lay across were a testimonial
to a time before man had logged the Northwest.
    They paused once at a small creek that trickled across the
trail for a drink from cupped hands. Kate marched along with admirable
determination and a child's energy. The mile was little more than a stroll for
Nate with his long legs, hampered by a four-year-old's pace. He and Abigail
talked desultorily, enjoying the rare silence. They passed several family
groups on the trail, but in between they heard no cars or other voices, only a
primeval silence. Abigail felt herself relaxing as she hadn't in months. Years.
    They emerged at last into the hot sun at the foot of the
mountain. The trail petered out between the huge rocks of the talus. Above was
the ice field, undercut at the bottom where it melted into a trickle of water
that made the rocks slick underfoot.
    Some kids were sliding on a piece of cardboard down the
snowy slope, yelling in voices that echoed from the rock face of the mountain
above. Patches of tiny wildflowers grew in the gritty soil between boulders.
    "We'll have to scramble up a little higher to see the
ice caves," Nate said. "I hope they've melted out this summer. Shall
we find a nice flat rock and have our picnic first, though?"
    "Sounds good," Abigail agreed.
    The perfect candidate for a lunch table was just being
vacated by a couple who smiled vaguely and shouldered day packs for the hike
out. Somehow Abigail ended up in the middle on the sun-warmed slab of rock,
Kate happily ensconced next to her and Nate uncomfortably close on the other
side. His shoulder brushed hers as he watched her unwrap her daughter's peanut
butter and jelly sandwich. A frisson of awareness shuddered through her at even
the small contact. Something in the line of his mouth told her she wasn't alone
in feeling it.
    "Turkey," she said in an unnaturally bright voice,
handing over the next sandwich. "I hope that's all right."
    "Only if it's the right brand." His mouth relaxed
into a grin that made her light-headed.
    "Picky, picky."
    "Normal," he mocked.
    There was nothing "normal" about him, not if it
meant ordinary. She thought again that, despite growing up there, he didn't
seem to fit in Pilchuck, a small town where the Dairy Princess was more
important than the Homecoming Queen, and where 4-H and Future Farmers of
America were popular with kids who intended to grow up and farm their fathers'
acres. Of course, there were an increasing number of residents who commuted as
far as Seattle, but they were seeking the rural peace that Pilchuck hadn't yet
lost.
    Was peace what Nate sought, too? Had he remembered it from
his childhood?
    While they ate grapes and homemade oatmeal-raisin cookies,
she asked him, "Did you miss Pilchuck when you were away?"
    Since they had been idly discussing school, from memories of
hated teachers to favorite subjects, Nate didn't look too startled by the
question.
    "Not at first. Eighteen years old, I couldn't shake the
dust of it off fast enough. But after my father died…." He shrugged.
"You get to thinking back. It was easier to remember the good parts after
a few years away."
    The good parts? Casually, she said, "You've never
mentioned your mother."
    "My parents were divorced when I was a kid. Never saw
her again."
    Aghast, Abigail turned to stare at him. He smiled crookedly
when he saw her